


Godfather Shinigami

by Lsama_no_miko



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lsama_no_miko/pseuds/Lsama_no_miko
Summary: PG for Yaoi. Just when you thought it was safe, I go and write another twisted version of one of Grimms' faitytales. Inspired by Jane Yolen's story - Godmother Death.





	Godfather Shinigami

          Mukashi, mukashi, there lived a general of a covert military group. He was loved by all his men, and especially his aide. He had an affair with the sister of one of those who had opposed him and had a daughter with the girl. However, as punishment for not legally marrying her, he lost the mother in childbirth. He loved his daughter dearly, but he really had hoped to have a son, someone to follow in his footsteps as it were.

          One day, one of the prisoners called him to his cell. There, the mercenary pleaded with the general to take care of his infant son since he was to be executed the next day. Being a compassionate and noble man, the general agreed to the condemned man’s last request. The prisoner thanked him profusely saying that he could die in peace.

          Once the adoption papers were finalized, the general decided to have his new son christened with a new name. The only problem was that he needed someone to be the boy’s godfather. H e daren’t ask one of his men or his aide since they led lives that could end at any moment. He needed someone who’d look after the boy should anything happen to him. So to solve the conundrum, he decided to ask the first person he saw while he took his daily ride.

          He rode along the country road near the Romefeller headquarters for about and hour them came upon a wandering monk with spiky blue hair. In spite of the monk’s odd appearance, the general asked who he was when he had agreed to be his son’s godfather.

          “I’m just a traveling monk, no da,” the monk replied, “I’ll make sure your son learns right from wrong, na no da.”

          The general frowned for his disliked overly religious people. “I think not sir monk,” the general said, “No offense, but your kind have a habit of making yourselves rich and fat while the poor go hungry.” He then rode on further down the road for an hour more until a balding man with sunglasses, a moustache, and a goatee approached him. “Are you looking for something?” he asked the general.

          “I need someone to be my son’s godfather,” replied the general.

          “Then look no further,” said the man, stroking his goatee.

          “Who are you?” the general asked warily.

          “I’m a treasure hunter,” was the answer, “Your son will become rich if you allow me to teach him to hunt for treasure.”

          “No you will not,” the general answered disdainfully. “Your kind are nothing but lazy and unproductive, living off the refuse of others like scavengers. I will not have my son associate with people like you.”

          He rode for yet another disappointing hour. He shortly after then came upon a longhaired boy dressed in a priest’s outfit and carrying a scythe. Getting the feeling that this was no ordinary boy, he stopped.

          “Hi ya, General T-“ the boy said in greeting. “What’s got you down in the dumps today?” Smiling at the friendly greeting, he explained his situation. “Then make me the kid’s godfather,” the boy said eagerly.

          “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” the general said, “but you do seem to know me.”

          “Of course I know you, T-kun. You and I are old friends,” the boy said smiling. The look on his face was not one of a human boy, it was something otherworldly. The general then realized it was no mortal he was talking to, but the one who ‘makes all people equal’.

          “In deed, we are old friends you and I,” the man replied. “I would be honored to have you as my son’s godfather, Shinigami.”

          “It’s settled then,” Shinigami said, resuming his mortal guise. “You needed worry about the kid. He couldn’t get a better friend then me.”

          The general nodded, pleased he had finally found the right person. “The christening is in two days, please try to be on time,” he said before turning his steed around.

          “Will do!” Shinigami called, “See ya then!”

          The christening went off without a hitch and the God of Death became the infant’s godfather.

 

          Fifteen years later, the general’s son had grown to be a rather sullen, emotionless boy with deep and piercing Prussian blue eyes and short brown hair. One day, the boy’s godfather showed up at the late general’s mansion and pulled him aside.

          Even though he had never seen this odd old man with a mechanic claw for one hand before, he knew who he had to be. Somehow he had always known whether or not a stranger was actually his godfather in disguise, so he wasn’t alarmed by his sudden appearance.

          “Listen Heero-kun,” his godfather began, “I know you enjoy blowing stuff up and getting rid of terrorists, but you’ve been causing a bit of a work overload for me of late.” Heero nodded not caring. “I’ve decided you should be saving a few lives to balance things out.”

          “You want me to be a doctor then?” the boy asked.

          Shinigami nodded. “I’ll make you sure you get the best education. You’ll become famous. And here’s how, I shall teach you a little trick.” The boy nodded again. “Whenever you are called to a patient’s sickbed look for me. If I’m at the head, you are to say that he’ll live and the patient will be healed instantly. However, if I’m at the foot –“

          “The patient will die,” Heero supplied.

          Shinigami smiled and patted his tousled head. “Smart boy,” he said approvingly. “You be a good boy Heero, and I’ll see you again sometime.” Heero said nothing as his godfather left as mysteriously and quietly as he had come.

 

          Within two years, Heero became so famous as a doctor, that there wasn’t a country or colony who hadn’t heard of him. One day, the king of the Sanq Kingdom, an old friend of his father’s, had fallen very ill and naturally, he was called upon for help.

          He looked at the king’s bed and saw his godfather standing at the foot, listening to a walkman. Remembering a promise to his father to look after him, Heero felt a slight pang of guilt for having to let him die. For the first time in his life, the young doctor disobeyed his godfather. He told the servants to turn the bed around and the Grim Reaper was now at the head of the king’s bed. Satisfied, Heero opened the door and let in a rather anxious woman with short black hair.

          “Well?” she asked.

          “He will live,” Heero announced in his usual flat tone. To her surprise and happiness, King Zechs sat straight up feeling 100% better.

          Unfortunately, Shinigami’s batteries had run out and he heard the doctor’s statement. He glared furiously at his godson then left the sick room in a huff.

          After escaping the celebration, Heero attempted to boot up his laptop, when a girl with long blonde hair and eyebrows that would frighten the hardest criminal grabbed his hand. “That was a nasty trick you played on me, Heero-kun,” she said sweetly, causing a chill to go down his spine. “I’ll forgive you this once. You are my only godson after all.” She then blew him a kiss then disappeared.

 

          A few weeks later, King Zechs’ sister Relena contracted the same illness. However, it was no secret that Heero wasn’t fond of the girl. In fact very few were once they got to know her. So as an added incentive and an excuse to dump the responsibility of running a kingdom on someone else, the pale blond declared that whoever could heal his sister could marry her and thus inherit the kingdom.

          Heero came, but only because Lady Noin wouldn’t stop pestering him until he did. He quickly looked at Relena and blanched. At the girl’s head stood his godfather. This time he wore the guise of a Chinese boy and was calmly reading a book and throwing him warning glances every now and then.

          As with before he had the princess’ bed turned around so that Shinigami now sat at the opposite end. “Gomen nasai,” he said to the frantic Lady Noin, “I’ve done all I can for her. Princess Relena will die.” The woman wailed and the king resigned himself to being tied to the throne.

          “You’ll pay for what you’ve done, Heero-kun,” the irate immortal whispered to him, then muttered to himself, “Kids these days.” Heero however, wasn’t fazed by his godfather’s anger. He was actually glad, if he was to be punished, then he would never have to deal with annoying and vapid girls constantly trying to tie him down.

          ‘I’d rather die than marry Relena anyway,’ he thought as he left unnoticed by the sobbing people.

 

          He didn’t have long to wait for his godfather to punish him. As soon as he sat down into his favorite chair and booted up his laptop, he was bitten by a black widow spider that had been hiding near the computer’s mouse. Within hours, Heero was dead, glad to finally be set free.

 

          Heero woke to find himself lying on a large four poster bed covered with black and silver silk sheets. He looked around confused, he was sure it was a black widow that had bitten him. Had someone found and saved him by giving him the antidote?

          “I told you, you’d pay,” an all too familiar voice said from the shadows, chuckling.

          “Godfather Shinigami,” Heero said as a longhaired boy with large expressive violet eyes approached him.

          “You don’t have to call me that anymore, Hee-chan,” the boy said smiling, “Since you’re not exactly alive now.” Heero nodded. “You’re lucky actually. I don’t let anyone stay here with me everyday you know.” Another nod. “Did you know I haven’t used this form since the day your father met me on the road.” Shinigami said playing with the extremely long braid and leaning closer.

          “I-It’s nice,” Heero said, blushing and silently admitting that the immortal’s guise was indeed very pleasing to the eyes..

          “Is that a compliment, Hee-chan?” Shinigami smirked mischievously. “It’s my favorite actually. I don’t use it too often though. Only for those I like.”

          “I-I’m honored,” Heero said, still blushing. He timidly ran a hand along the braid and found it felt just like the sheets he was lying on.

          “Want to know just how lucky you are?” Shinigami asked, purring in his ear.  Heero gulped nervously and nodded. Chuckling softly the God of Death proceeded to show the former doctor how lucky he truly was.

 

~Owari~


End file.
